The Ghost in the Back of Your Head
by mageofsun
Summary: Tension burrows its ugly head into Max and Chloe's relationship after the "Save Chloe" ending. Made for a christmas gift trade with tumblr user surroundedbybluestars. Happy Holidays!
1. Chapter 1

The water boiled. She rubbed her hands over the steam, warming her winter-chilled bones. Someday, Chloe Price will make a big enough check to afford to even touch the thermostat dial, but today was not that day. No, today, she glared at the thermostat, which her girlfriend, Max Caulfield, placed a piece of tape over to help them resist the temptation to warm their small apartment.

She released a whining groan as she pulled herself from the heat of the boiling pot and grabbed a box of uncooked spaghetti noodles. Tearing the top of the cardboard box off with her teeth, Chloe attempted to pour a few strands of hard noodles into her hand before tossing them into the pot, hoping to leave about half for the next pot.

Her hands shook hard from the cold. She missed spectacularly. A quarter of the box fell to the floor. The apartment was empty, but Chloe looked both ways before putting on a mischievous grin, picking the pasta from the tiles, and throwing them into the pot.

"What Max doesn't know, won't kill her..." Chloe said, stirring the pasta until it softened. She tested out some nicknames on her tongue, including "Max Attack", "Maxaroni and Cheese", and "Max Effect 3".

The pasta, now cooked, laid on plates on the poor excuse of a dinner table set up between the kitchen and living room, though no barriers separated either room. On the pasta was canned sauce and delicately parsley Chloe had broken off and held in her palm as she went through the check-out stand (there was no way she was buying a whole head of that garbage just for a fucking garnish).

For the finishing touch, Chloe lit two tea candles and set them on the table, a substitute for those fancy-ass candlesticks she always saw in restaurant scenes in the romantic movies she used to ironically watch with Rachel- _Nope, not today. Today's about Max, so stop trying to sabotage your own date night and kick yourself into top gear. Which is the Romance Gear._ Laughing, she straightened her tie and made muscles in the bathroom mirror. "Hell yeah, you suave motherfucker, you've got this. Once Max gets a good look at your biz-nasty mug, she won't be able to-"

"To... what, exactly?"

Chloe nearly leaped right out her skin, turning around to see Max approach the bathroom door with a grin and one eyebrow raised. "H-hey, Maxaroni and Cheese. I, I didn't see you." She ended lamely, trying out one of those names she practiced earlier. Max graciously just laughed when they hugged. "I had this whole thing planned out, when I hear you coming up the stairs, and I'm all like, 'come in, My Lady.' And you were gonna be all like, 'Why, thank you my dearest. Also, you're super hot, please make sweet love to me.'"

Max laughed again, this time punching her girlfriend lightly on the arm. "Should I go back down so you can get the chance to do that? It really sounds like more of a sitcom than a warm welcome home, but I'm game."

They sat and ate dinner, Chloe excitedly praising her girlfriend whenever she could weave it into the conversation. They were celebrating Max's new job as a photographer and producer for a local studio, right there in the heart of Seattle.

They made love that night, bringing the enthusiasm of the day's events into their bedroom. The upstairs neighbors punched the floor and yelled at them to shut up, but Chloe and Max both yelled back and continued as though nothing happened.

The next day, Chloe woke early for her job at the 7-11 on the corner of the block. She told everyone, including customers, about her girlfriend's success. Most people just rolled their eyes at her enthusiasm, and the rest gave a half-hearted congratulations, then asked for a bag.

This went on for a few days until her manager asked her to stop pestering the customers about it. She begrudgingly did as she was asked, and complained about it for about twenty minutes to Max when she went home that night.

Max was enjoying her new job, talking all about how long it takes doing prep work for the studio, discussing design tactics Chloe didn't understand but enjoyed listening to anyways.

They went to bed after marathoning Netflix. It felt like, after the hell the both of them had gone through to get there, everything was finally right in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Chloe started working night shift when a co-worker was fired for coming in stoned for the third time. She made a personal note to take care when she smoked, she couldn't afford to lose this job.

Max was starting to get that haze in her eyes again. She was doing a lot better the first week of having the new job, but Chloe could see it creeping back into the frame. Chloe did what she could, but there was only so much she could do.

"It's like I get stuck in a dream, but my eyes are open," Max would explain after being shaken out of a dissociation spell, "And sometimes it's a nightmare." She sometimes got lost in the worst moments of her life; her mind would be stuck thinking about how to get out of Mark Jefferson's underground bunker, or be looping trying to think of how to save Chloe.

Neither of them had really talked about Arcadia Bay since they left. Reports had word of survivors, but they couldn't bring themselves to find out who.

It was almost two in the morning, her shift was coming to a close. Chloe was putting a few things together and counting stock when the doorbell jingled.

Rolling her eyes, she stuffed herself behind the counter again until they left so she could finish up. But seeing the face of who came in left her palms sweaty and her breath shaky.

The woman who had walked in was the spitting image of Rachel Amber.

In that moment, Chloe felt all the grief of losing a lover all over again. And worst of all was the guilt when she realized that she suddenly longed for comfort, not from Max, but from Rachel herself.

 _Get a goddamn grip, Chloe. For fuck's sake, she's dead._ She shook her head and began to scratch at a sticker on the counter. _Spell it out, you're being delusional. Be cool, keep your eyes down, and don't stare like a freak._

A few moments later, a soda and some M&M's were on the counter. The faux-Rachel searched her bag for a wallet, and Chloe willed her fear away. _What am I so afraid of, anyway? She isn't going to hurt you. You're just paranoid._

Chloe asked her if she wanted cash back. She finally made eye contact. It was still too close for comfort, but she felt a little better seeing the little differences between her Rachel and this woman before her. There were a few faint freckles on this woman, and her eyes were more green than Rachel's hazel ones. _Just be nice and she'll be gone soon._

"Busy night?" The woman joked.

Chloe forced a laugh. "You have no idea," She said, and handed the woman her receipt to sign. _Please stop it with the small talk, lady. Jesus Christ..._

She signed in silence, then handing the paper back to Chloe, the said, "Y'know, I'm a bartender at the club just down the street. We're slowing down for the night, but drop by sometime if you're free sometime, yeah?"

"Thanks, I'll think about it." Chloe said in a voice that might have been a little too hostile, but the woman just turned with a wink.

Before leaving, the woman called out, "Name's Veronica. Can't wait to see you there."

Then she was gone.


End file.
